Phoenix
by 8belles
Summary: Starling City is in ruins. So is Oliver Queen's life. My vision of how the City and Oliver rise from the ashes and new malice for our favorite Vigilante to deal with in Season 2.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is what I may envision for next seasons' opener… the tying up of loose ends and the start of some new malice in the city. I know it should be Oliver and Laurel… but I'm too much of a Olicity SHIPPER… so things may get a bit "weird". 8belles**

Phoenix

Oliver stiffly sat behind his mother on the hard wood bench in his immaculate black Armani suit. His tie was green and his cufflinks were small emeralds. Exhaustion and deep circles lined his eyes, which were sunken in his face from lack of sleep.

Moira Queen also was seated and wearing black; her back to her son, lawyer to her left. Queen had not seen his mother in several days, since the earthquake. She had been incarcerated the entire time judged as a flight risk and denied bail. People had picketed Queen Consolidated and smashed windows in retaliation for what she admitted after the earthquake. Finding nothing to loot, they tried to burn the office building down, to no success except for causing smoke damage. Oliver spent those days with Diggle securing the building and assisting the Starling City Police in a giant data dump for any incriminating evidence against his mother. Felicity had done her job well and presented them with three 128 GB flash drives. She also was recruited by the police to do some electronic forensic work on the Merlyn computers too, which she gladly accepted.

Oliver was not shy about admitting he didn't like what his mother and father had perpetrated upon the city. He fully cooperated although the media was calling for his head on a pike as well. Thea, who had found Roy two days after the earthquake, now was not allowed out of the family home because of death threats. Roy had become their guest. Permanently.

The judge settled himself and his robes behind the bench. From the back, Oliver could see that Moira was as exhausted as he felt. Her hair, while coifed perfectly, was above sagging shoulders that seemed to be bearing the weight of the world. It felt just as crushing to watch her sitting there. Walter was farther back in the gallery and Oliver paid him no attention. Queen had learned that he had a subpoena to testify against his soon to be ex-wife. Oliver had one as well. That made things tense, to say the least.

_Why am I here?_ He thought quietly to himself as the judge shuffled papers on his bench. He knew why: no matter what she's done, she was his mother and right now, she really could use friend. Queen was completely amazed his mother called that press conference and confessed to so many heinous crimes. His expectation for that night was to go out and die as he saved the city from Malcolm Merlyn, not have to appear in court as his mother was having the charges read to her.

Judge Collins had a monotonous tone as he read the charges, " Moira Queen, how do you plead to the following charges: Murder, Conspiracy to commit murder, acts of terrorism, perjury…" the list went on and on it seemed to Oliver and every word seemed to hit his mother like a hammer, pushing her down farther and farther. Finally, he stopped after what seemed to be eternity, and sagely peered over the sheaf of papers at the defendant from behind his reading glasses.

"Your Honor, my client pleads not guilty." The lawyer rose and announced, "And your Honor, we'd like to petition the court to please set bail. Mrs. Queen is not a flight risk and she has not been to her home and family in several days. She is an older woman." Oliver frowned reflexively at that comment. His mother never referred to herself as 'older', but he knew what he was implying.

" Objection!" the prosecution announced and rose. The woman was a tall brunette, much like Laurel, but with a hungry look in her eye like she was out for blood, " This woman –"

" Mrs. Queen." The defense spoke up, giving a disapproving look towards the young woman.

" Pardon." The prosecutor threw him a cursory glance, " _Mrs. Queen_ has access to numerous types of transport and could leave the country in a heartbeat. The State moves that no bail is set and she remains incarcerated pending her trial date."

Collins looked at both of them each and then at Moira. He saw Oliver right behind her, looking straight ahead like a rod had been pressed down his spine. Even from the bench, he could see how shattered Moira appeared and torn her son was. " I will let Mrs. Queen go home." The prosecutor sputtered with indignation, " on the condition that—", he waved a warning at the prosecution, " she wear a tracking device and does not leave her home."

" Your Honor, they have a personal friend who is one of the top hackers in the country! A home incarceration bracelet is child's play!" the brunette countered pressing her fingers hard into the table before her. Oliver expected scratch marks to appear.

Oliver's eyebrow twitched upward in curiosity. Felicity is now described as a 'personal friend'. _Interesting_, he thought, _wait till she hears that one._

"And I hold Oliver Queen, "Judge Collins leveled a heavy look at the young man. Moira barely turned to acknowledge his presence, " to be in charge of her that she does not stray from this order."

The defense turned, hooking an elbow on the back of his chair, " You can say ' yes sir!'"

Oliver stood, " May I address the court?"

Judge Collins gave a surprised look, leaning back in his chair, " Yes. Proceed."

Oliver looked around the room and saw many faces he knew and then a surprise: Felicity was sitting two rows behind him. A small shiver went down his spine. Clearing his throat he began, " My family has done a great injustice to this city. Too much has happened while I was gone and even before I was absent." He paused and everyone appeared to hang on his words, " But justice is what this city deserves and it what it will get. No amount of money can protect you from true justice." He paused again and saw some folks were tearing up or had angry expressions, "And so, your Honor, I will make sure my mother is responsible for her part." Quietly, he sat down. The room remained as still as a taught wire just waiting to break.

" Alright then. Bail is set at 20 million dollars, fifty percent down for release. Trial date is set for the first of next month. Court is adjourned." And with a rap of the gavel, Judge Collins dismissed the biggest case to be tried in Starling City since anyone could remember.

The room erupted in noise. Some were jeers, some requests for interviews, others just hanging on for a slice of fame. Flashes of light broke out like a lightening storm all around them. People yelled for attention. For a brief moment, Moira got up and turned to her son with weary gratitude. He was devastated with how haggard she looked and longed to hold her, to say everything would be fine, but he couldn't. Putting on his best poker face, he reached out and simply touched her shoulder, " I meant what I said."

A small flicker of life seemed to go out of her eyes and it was if Merlyn's arrow had pierced his chest again, " I understand." Her voice was a shadow.

John Diggle and his associates pushed the media circus back so Moira, Oliver and their lawyer could exit the courtroom. Felicity caught Oliver's eye and said pantomimed, 'Call me.' He barely nodded as he left the catastrophe that threatened to engulf him. Oliver met eyes with Walter as he passed but the man was stone faced.

Oliver escorted his mother to the sheriff's office below the courtrooms for her ankle bracelet. She said nothing while they installed the slim, black band with the CPU/GPS unit around her ankle above her Jimmy Choo shoes and gave it a test. " Now, don't be like that lady on the news just the other day who Bedazzeld her bracelet. Keep it charged and we'll all be good." the woman officer joked awkwardly, more out discomfort being so near Moira Queen, the pariah of the city. Oliver smiled his fake smile at her. Moira seemed to be a fraction of herself. John escorted the Queens and their council out to the car and then whisked them home.

The silence in the car was deafening.

Thea embraced her mother and seemed to give her some pep. She introduced Roy to her and he was as uncomfortable as a kid meeting some idol for the first time. Moira excused herself to her bedroom and Oliver watched her ascend the stairs noting how she clung to the railing for support. Thea looked at her brother, " She going to be ok?"

" Only she can answer that. " Oliver replied and repressed the need to unleash his sudden feeling of anger, "I need to get to the wake."

" Oh. Yeah. I… forgot." Thea said carefully, not looking at Oliver in the eye, "I'll keep an eye on Mom. Make her some tea. Stuff like that."

" And you, Roy?" Oliver asked giving him an unvarnished, terrifying look.

" I'm going to become Martha fricken Stewart around here. No problems from me. A saint I am." He replied showing both hands, palm up to Queen.

Oliver barely registered that reply as he turned for the door with John. " I'll be out late. Don't wait up for me."

" Never do." Thea threw back and then regretted it immediately. Oliver appeared not to hear.

In the aftermath of the earthquake, after Laurel found out Tommy had died, she set about arranging his funeral. Since there were no close relatives left in the Merlyn family, Laurel felt this was the closest thing to closure she would ever get. After all, how do you say thanks for saving my life to someone who said they loved you just before they died?

Laurel didn't mean to schedule the visitation on the same day as Moira's arraignment, but it just happened that way. She knew Oliver was going to be there in the morning and then come to see Tommy one last time. In the end, she wasn't sure what to expect from either of them.

The estate lawyer knew Laurel and gave her sufficient funds that had not been seized by the city to allow her to give Tommy the respect he so rightly deserved. The funeral home was away from downtown, an older area with large trees and shaded streets that were quiet and stately. She made sure the hearse was polished till it gleamed and the limousines were immaculate.

Tommy's mother was fond of roses in all their colors and so she bought out every last stem from the florists that still had inventory. Once those were exhausted, she had flowers brought in from surrounding towns. The funeral home looked like spring and smelled like heaven.

Laurel felt that Tommy should have a white casket, not a dark one. He was not like his father and full of evil, but rather light and humor. The enamel of the casket was so clean, you could use it for a mirror and the metal work was plated in chrome. White silk satin was tufted inside by hand with a subtle lace trim and a picture of her, Oliver and Tommy, from their childhood, stitched inside for remembrance.

The doorway to the parlor was nice place to lean on as she surveyed her last goodbye for Tommy. He lay in state, calm and serene as if he was napping on her couch while watching football. She knew how he died, but pushed that vision out of her mind. The EMT's had been discrete about it when they brought out his body, but she had found out from her dad.

Chairs with padded seats lined neatly on either side making a center aisle for those who wished to pay their respects. The low volume of Miles Davis and Wynton Marsalis, two of Tommy's favorite jazz musicians, played. The roses lit up the room with color and vibrance and life. Tommy was not brooding and sad; he always had a joke, something funny to say when you were down or just for the hell of it. Laurel remembered a time when they were very young and he made funny faces at her till she laughed after falling off her tricycle. Or the time that she and Oliver were arguing in middle school and Tommy came out dressed like Harry Potter and put a Shut Up Spell over both of them. He had used his father's sharpie to draw the lightening scar and it stayed on his forehead for a week. A faint smile perked up her lips as she drew in a long breath and hugged her torso with her arms.

"Hey there darling." Her dad said as he approached and embraced her. She clung to him longer than she thought she should. After all, she planned all this and was ok with letting go, right? To her it felt more like she would never be able to say good-bye because they had been together so long through their childhood till now.

" Hi." She replied shakily.

" Everything looks beautiful." Lance returned giving his daughter the most sympathetic look he could muster.

" Thanks. Visitation should be soon. I need to check on a few last things." She said patting his arm.

"Laurel." Lance said looking at her but not finding the words, he looked at her awkwardly. Since that phone call in the subway when he thought he'd never see his daughter alive again, things had been a bit strained.

" I know Dad. I know." She replied and moved on to find the funeral director. Lance stuck his hands in his pockets and gazed into the parlor.

John pulled into the semicircular driveway of the funeral home. Oliver let himself out from the back seat and Dig moved the car to a parking space. Together, they entered the building and saw other friends gathered in the foyer. Their voices were quiet, subdued and heavy with grief. Oliver said hello to classmates that he had not seen in years. John shook hands with them as Queen introduced them and made small talk around.

Eventually, Oliver decided to approach the parlor and Dig hung back. Suddenly, John caught a blonde flash of a ponytail out of the corner of his eye. " Felicity!" Dig said with direction without being loud. She wove her way through the assembled mourners and joined him.

"How is he?" she asked quietly, looking up at John's dark brown eyes.

" Hard to tell." Dig admitted scanning the room, " You know how good he is at hiding things."

" Is Laurel here?" Felicity replied somberly.

" I've not seen her, but I know she's here. She arranged this for Tommy." Diggle admitted while taking in the flowers. Both he and Felicity knew how Tommy died and how that affected Laurel and Oliver. Both were probably hanging on by a thread of sanity.

" I'm at a loss for words and you know that's rare for me." She commented but her tone was not funny. Her blue eyes were pools of suffering threatening to tears.

" I know. I am too." John said and put an arm around her shoulders and gave her a supportive squeeze.

The parlor was fairly empty as if the living were afraid of facing death and preferred to pool in the foyer where the light and life were stronger. Oliver put a hand on the back of the last chair on the left side and gazed up the aisle at the casket, which was half open. From where he stood, he could see Tommy's profile in repose. _" Tommy! Open your eyes!"_ his voice rang in his head like a bell. The Island loomed over his shoulder like Death itself. Slade, Shado and even Yao Fei danced his brain like wraiths and ripped out his heart and started dancing on it. Sarah's specter appeared next in the less-than-clothed way they parted. Her mouth was frozen in the " OLIVER!" she had been screaming the night she was washed away. She faded to the ghost of his father with the gun against his head right before he pulled the trigger.

Pinching his fingers to the bridge of his nose, he closed his eyes as a sudden piercing headache knifed through his skull too full of apparitions. Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder and he jumped away pushing the chair out of line. His eyes rested on Laurel standing next to him, who looked as surprised as he was to see her.

" Oliver. How are you?" she asked neutrally, her green eyes swimming under long lashes.

Oliver looked at her, then to the casket and back at her. Swallowing, he went to speak and his voice failed him. Laurel pulled him into a hug and he awkwardly put his hands around her, smoothed her hair and put a small kiss on the top of her head. He found his voice after a moment, " I'm tired."

" How was this morning?" she asked about the arraignment.

" I'm sure you'll see in the evening news. " his eyes were dark in a flicker of anger. His jaw flexed, involuntarily.

" Is your mother alright?" Laurel asked politely.

" She'll survive." He replied quickly because he didn't want to talk about it. He wasn't sure he wanted to be talking to Laurel right now either. She didn't know he spent Tommy's last moments on Earth with him and that **she** was almost the last thing on his mind before dying.

" Will you?" Laurel said out loud but it was clear she didn't mean to. Oliver gave her a look from behind his public mask. " I'll let you have a moment." she said uneasily and squeezed his hand. Oliver was yet another frayed end to the bundle of knots she had worked herself into.

Oliver noticed that people were hanging about the fringes of the parlor as if waiting for him to pay his respects first. Now that Malcolm was gone, Oliver was the closest thing to family he had. His feet felt like cement blocks that refused to move but he forced them to, up the aisle. Cold began to creep its way up his legs to seize upon his chest and heart. _It should have been ME._ His conscience beat him with one of his sparing sticks with each heartbeat. _Me. Me… I should be there, dead. Mom would be alright , Thea has Roy and I'd be free. Free of this burden._

He abruptly found himself standing before the casket, not sure how he got there with his leaden feet. Tommy was well dressed; Laurel picked out a nice suit for him. His face was one of peace; Oliver was envious of his expression. Queen saw the photo of them as children together and the tears came like Niagara flowing over his face, soundlessly. "Tommy, I am so sorry." he whispered fiercely, only loud enough for him to hear. Composing himself once more and discretely dabbing his eyes, he turned to the left to leave and saw Diggle and Felicity standing to the side near the wall. Felicity looked as if she could, she would pull all the hurt out of his soul with her bare hands and John would it crush it like vermin under his boot.

They welcomed him with open arms. Oliver took Felicity in a full embrace, allowing his walls down just a fraction, which stained the collar lace of her classic yet stylish black dress with salt. John used his large body to shield them from too many prying eyes. He did notice Laurel glancing over several times to see what Oliver was doing. Her expression was one of confusion and hurt. John wished Oliver would make up his mind about who his heart belonged to because he was a thorn in the side of two women he knew; one better than the other.

" Thanks." Oliver said, his voice hoarse from emotion.

Felicity looked at him and replied, " This is what friends do. We rise from the ashes."

" Will you burst into flames like a phoenix too?" Oliver asked cleaning his nose and eyes.

" Uh, no. I didn't plan on it. Fire is not a friend of mine. I just burned my neck with my flat iron tonight. See?" she lifted her ponytail to the side to show a small mark on her slender neck. Oliver was struck by the sensation he wanted to kiss her there. Blinking, he cleared his mind of that absurd thought. But her display did get him out of the abyss he had just been swimming in, at least temporarily.

" I need to go to Verdant." Oliver said.

" I'll drive you, but Carly needed me at Big Belly for something tonight." John replied and Oliver nodded.

" I'll go with you." Felicity remarked as they began moving towards the door, waiving polite good byes.

" No need." Oliver said more curtly than he mean to.

" I think there is." She said simply and dropped it. He cast her a look and she met him eye to eye. A small warm spot formed in the pit of his iced over grieving heart.


	2. Chapter 2

Phoenix ch 2

Oliver entered the basement of Verdant going straight to his dressing room. Carefully and deliberately he undressed, folding his shirt and suit coat. He changed his pants and hung everything neatly in its place. Exiting, he saw Felicity had arrived, just like she promised, but he said nothing to her and she didn't speak to him.

Felicity watched him walk calmly to his sparing area where he picked up his sticks and began his dance. The tempo started out slowly as he warmed up and began to increase in tempo until it almost matched some of the electric beats she had heard coming from the DJ upstairs.

The violence was tremendous that he inflicted upon that pole and splinters flew in all directions as he whirled and danced his maneuvers. Finally, as if he had given his last breath, he collapsed to the floor in a heap. "Oliver!" Felicity yelled and went to him as he stretched out on his back eyes closed, heaving for air. He said nothing in reply but as she bent down, she saw tiny cuts all over his body from the wood, in addition to his island scars. They oozed tiny dots of blood like nectar from the pricked skin of a ripe peach. "Oliver… can I. Can I get you some water?" She tried to sound useful, not sure what to say.

When he caught his breath enough to speak, he turned his head and looked at her, and gruffly said, "No. I need to get home soon." He sat up and hugged his knees for a moment gazing at nothing over his forearms, "Felicity, when does it end?" His tone was softer. She took a seat near him on the floor, fixated by the rivers of sweat and tiny drops of blood on his skin like fractal patterns or chaos theory.

She looked at him puzzled, "What do you mean?"

"This." He waved around the room, his expression miserable, "When can I stop.. Hurting?"

Felicity thought for a moment, "I'm not a religious person. My parents were, but that never rubbed off on me." She said faintly, gazing at the floor observing the texture of the concrete, "But I am inclined that we are never free from suffering, just like we are never short of happiness or… love." She looked up at the last statement and saw Oliver staring at her intensely. A chill ran down her back like an icy finger.

"That was very deep." He commented. Felicity felt her cheeks color.

"Thanks. I did take a survey of philosophy class in college that I had to take. You know those stupid classes the make you take that have nothing to do with your degree except to make the college more money. And I'm a glass half full kind of gal. Anyway, the professor was pretty… I'm doing it again aren't I?" she stopped and looked guiltily at the floor. She was supposed to be consoling him, not babbling at him.

He hooked a finger under her chin and lifted her face, "Your optimism is contagious." A genuine smile appeared from behind the sorrow like a rainbow after a hurricane.

"That is what friends are for. When will you ever learn that?" Felicity said gazing into his eyes feeling herself leaning in but halted the slide before she got too far.

Oliver picked up on her nervousness and sat back quickly as if his mother had caught him with a girl when he was younger, "I need to get going." He stood and stretched and she admired him for a second, "Thank you, Felicity. You… mean a lot to me."

"Are you going to Tommy's funeral tomorrow?" she asked hesitantly, also standing and dusting herself off.

Oliver's head dipped down, chin to his chest, then back up and looked at her, his eyes cold again, " I don't know."

"Ok. Let me know if you need me." She said and reached out to touch his arm tenderly.

His hand covered hers and he looked at her affectionately, "I will."

They parted and Felicity jogged upstairs to her car and the drive home. Oliver for the first time felt achy from his exertion as if the grief was oozing out from his insides, hurting him as it left. After his shower and dressing, he glanced at his cell. Laurel had called his phone, Thea texted him and it was late. Shoving the device in his pocket, he also drove home not really feeling better but he didn't want Felicity to worry about him.

#&#&#&#&#&#&#&#&#&#&#&#&#

Moira came home from court utterly drained of all will to live. She hugged her daughter after Oliver brought her home and felt the pinch of the ankle bracelet. With the automaton manners she was taught as a young woman, she greeted Roy as best as she could given she was not in the mood to entertain guests.

Moira excused herself just wanting to curl up in a ball and sleep till she could be calm again. Oliver's comment about being " all right" was clearly as a bell to her ears and it made her hold the staircase that much tighter lest she fall. Simultaneously, she understood his anger at her and despised the fact he was so furious at her as well. He had _no idea_ what she had to do to protect them since they were teen-agers till this point. She had made the best choices that she could with what was presented to her and her rancor was hard to suppress knowing he would never understand that.

But that argument could wait till another day. Right now she wanted to rest.

The door to her room beckoned to her like the pearly gates to Heaven. Tommy's wake was this afternoon and she knew she should attend but she didn't feel up to it. It was a convenient excuse that her ankle bracelet would not allow her to make the trip. _How scandalous_, she thought sarcastically to herself as she gazed wearily in the mirror at an old woman pulling off her pearl earrings. _Moira Queen can't even find it in herself to attend the wake of her good friend Malcolm Merlyn's son because she's a criminal!_ His name was bitter in her mind and she cursed him to hell, hoping that he was there burning while his wife and son gazed down on them from heaven_. Perhaps I'll make a scholarship fund. I wonder how many students will apply for the Thomas Merlyn Scholarship. Maybe only the twisted ones_, she ranted on in her head as she continued to undress. She wrapped herself in soft cashmere pajamas and a plush robe, walking herself to a small reading nook off the side of her bedroom. There she settled onto a small crème colored couch that hugged a bank of windows that gazed out over the side lawns of the property.

She watched the birds in the sky flying by and the landscapers working like bees. Suddenly she was acutely aware that she was a prisoner in her own home and that thought chafed her greatly. At least she was home with Oliver and Thea, which made her feel not alone.

"Mom?" Thea called softly at her doorway.

" I am in here." Moira replied.

" Mom, I brought you some tea. And chocolate chip cookies." Thea carried a tray like she was a butler at a five star restaurant. Moira was forced to smile at her daughter being goofy.

" Where did you get those?" Moira asked, taking a cookie from the Wedgewood china plate. It was still warm and smelled divine.

"Roy and I are baking them. I thought you could use a chocolate upper." Thea said cocking her head to the side like a bird.

Moira's expression became serious for a moment, " Does he make you happy?"

Thea stopped being silly and snapped up straight at the question, eyes narrowing slightly, " Why do you ask?" Her tone suggested she awaited a criticism.

" I was just wondering. You two seem very close and I want to make sure you don't make –" Moira paused and sipped her tea as if her throat was tight, " the same mistakes as me."

Thea's face melted into a compassionate expression as she sank down next to her mother on the couch. " Mom, you didn't make a mistake. You did what you had to do." Her tone was soft and sympathetic. Putting an arm around her mother, she felt how fragile she was, like a bird under its fluffy feathers.

" Thank you Thea. You are growing up to be such an amazing young woman." Moira assessed her daughter, feeling a pang of pride in her wounded heart.

" All because of you, Mom." Thea replied and gave her another squeeze. " Let me know if you need anything else. I'll be downstairs." Moira smiled as her daughter disappeared around the corner and out of her bedroom suite. Her gaze returned to the window as the cup of tea warmed her bony hands.

"All because of me." She repeated to no one, feeling those words were truer than any she ever heard spoken.

#&#&#&#&#&#&#&#&#&#&#&#&#&#&#&#&#&#&#

Malcolm Merlyn lay in state in the City Morgue, drawer number 6, according to the medical examiners records. The autopsy report was very clear about the cause of death: _puncture of the dorsal surface of the left ventricle consistent with a sharp instrument such an arrow broad head leading to massive exsanguination of the body resulting in death_. There was a litany of other injuries: broken nose, bruised ribs and injuries to the legs all perimortem. The diener sat in the cold office just outside the morgue exam room where the bodies were stored, reading the report on Merlyn. He really shouldn't be but it wasn't like there was a family member who would complain. They were all dead too. The chilly silence was encompassing, but he was used to it and rather preferred it to the noise of paging doctors, crying kids and sick patients upstairs. Philip Dugan was printed neatly on the ID badge hanging from his white lab coat.

The story floating in the news was the Hood had killed him on the rooftop as the city came down around everyone's ears. _Wow, was he the superman of the moment_, Philip thought to himself as he thumbed through the report. While Philip typically reserved judgment on the bodies of the deceased, he was very pleased that Merlyn was dead and at the hands of someone who was the apparent epitome of good. Dugan didn't live in the Glades, but he had friends who did and they lost almost everything in the earthquake.

Snapping the file shut, he placed it on the desk and kicked his feet up on the corner. His phone buzzed with a text: _Dude- another rumor_.

Philip replied to his friend who worked in Starling City General Hospital, which was different from the poorer City Hospital: _What?_

The phone chimed: _O Queen. Admitted 4 wounds nite of quake_.

Dugan snorted: So? _Everybody was hurt. Lame_

The friend replied_: Wounds consistent with the Wiz! _

Dugan looked at that for moment. His nurse buddy worked in the psych ward and did have a penchant for conspiracy theories so things had to be taken with a grain of salt. He also called Malcolm the "Wiz" because as he reasoned, if someone (like the government) found his phone they wouldn't know who he was talking about: _So?_

The chime: _what if O Queen was the Hood!_

Philip typed_: U Nutz._ _Proof?_

There was a long moment between his reply. Perhaps his supervisor found him in the broom closet texting instead of working: _File!_

Dugan laughed out loud: _Sorry. read files on Dead. Not RICH Sue happy._

_CHICKEN! TRUTH!:_ yelled his phone.

_Bawk Bawk. Nite dawg_: Philip replied and put his phone down on silent. _Oliver Queen the Hood?_ Philip scoffed in his head_. Man he needs to get his head checked. For real, _he chided himself.

Unexpectedly, the door knocked making Dugan jump in surprise, which was unusual for him. The classic frosted glass obscured the visitor's identity. Philip actually wished his office didn't look like something straight out of a _Perry Mason_ episode with the wood framed doors, white subway tile, original terrazzo floor and hand painted letters on the glass: CITY MORGUE in neat black enamel paint.

Rising, Philip walked to the door and opened it partly expecting to see the Coroner or police. Instead it was the well known mortician, Greg Walker, "Evening, Phil."

Philip was glad to see it wasn't some else because he had a peculiar feeling since his friend's text, "Greg. What can I do for you?"

"I've come for Merlyn." he said simply.

Philip's eyebrows went up over his grey eyes, "Obscure family come?"

"No. I've been thinking. My conscience just won't let him go to rest without someone taking care of the body." Greg replied. He was known to take indigent deceased or those people in society deemed 'less' somehow and provide services at the Paupers Cemetery or cremation.

"Another charity case?" Philip scoffed not trying to hide the hate in his voice.

"I guess." Greg didn't argue but presented papers to Philip from the Mayor's office and police allowing release of the body.

Philip glanced at them and they were all in order. Then a thought struck him, "This is very _A_ _Christmas Carol_, isn't it? You know, where the Ghost of Christmas Future shows Ebenezer the folks picking though his stuff and no mourners at his funeral?"

Greg looked at him and gave him a lopsided smile, "Well, I'm no ghost. I think Merlyn is past the redemption stage." After a moment he added," You need to get out more."

"I guess so." Philip handed the papers back to the mortician; "I'll meet you at the loading dock."

"Thanks." Greg replied and left the office.

The transfer of Malcolm Merlyn's body was smooth and effortless. There were no paparazzi, no hecklers and no mourners. Walker took him to his funeral home and prepared the body for cremation. He wasn't stupid enough to inter him because all of Starling City would be dragging his corpse through the streets.

The box was plain pinewood and slipped easily into the crematoria oven. Walker flicked on the gas and pushed the ignition button, watching the flames shoot out of the pipes flanking the coffin. The wood erupted in flame and the process began. In twelve hours, Malcolm Merlyn would be not much more than the dust he left the Glades in.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N… Sorry this is taking so long but because it's not a bunch of 1 shots, I want to make sure this reads like a TV Episode and do my "homework" appropriately. Thanks for the readership. 8Belles**

Phoenix ch 3

The morning came like every other morning in Oliver's room. The sun soothingly filtered through the curtains and pooled gently on the plush Oriental rug, gradually creeping upon the bed and touching his pillow. But today was not just another day and his bed was empty.

Oliver was up before dawn as if he were still on the island, too disturbed to sleep. He had a small breakfast and did a mini version, but not less intense one, of his Verdant workout. It was too early to dress for Tommy's funeral service and he paced like caged animal, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts looking for a way out. A soft knock came on his door and Queen almost jumped out of his skin. "Ollie?"came the tentative voice. It was Thea.

"Come in." Oliver replied, composing himself quickly. His sister appeared through the doorway, "I'm shocked! You actually knocked for once."

"Well, I guess I finally learned." she smiled at him sheepishly flopping ungracefully on a couch and pulling her robe around herself. "Can't sleep?"

He cut a sarcastic smile to his sister 'Captain Obvious', but he knew she meant well, "Yeah. I have a lot on my mind." Oliver sat near her on the couch.

"Tell me about it." Thea gave an eye roll, "I mean, I love Roy and all, but now that he's here all the _TIME_, this is getting … weird."

Oliver smiled at his sister and her complaint, "Hmm. Yes, a bit of separation is always a good thing for relationships." Queen replied tentatively and a flash of Felicity appeared catching him off guard. Stretching his neck he adjusted his expression to hide that thought.

"You'd know a ton about that, wouldn't you." Thea poked gentle fun at her brother.

"Speedy, you never cease to amaze me at your lack of filter." Oliver replied frowning lightly.

"No worse than your friend… what's her name? Felicity?" Thea asked earnestly as if she had just read his mind.

Without getting angry with her he responded, "Yes, that's her name. Sometimes she has no kill switch on her mouth too."

"I think it's cute." Thea looked away for a moment at nothing in particular, "So how about you and Laurel?"

"What do you mean?" Oliver put his walls up a bit more.

"You know. I think every body _knows_." Thea said in a classical teen way that downplays the seriousness of the observation.

" Everybody?" A small hitch of panic rose in his mind. He had to be alone. Stay alone. He's hurt so many already. To him, he even killed his best friend.

"Well, it's obvious. Laurel was **so into** Tommy. It's a wonder you've been so cool! No disrespect towards Tommy, you know." Thea proclaimed then leaned into Oliver's shoulder, "So how are you helping Laurel cope with this?"

A pressure valve let off in his head. No one apparently thought he and Laurel were an item again, except for Tommy. Tommy took that secret with him. But what _did_ she really feel towards him? Was Laurel falling for him out of sheer habit or because she now had a vacuum in her life? What was _he _feeling? The straight line he set out for himself had been crossed so often with her it was if his heart was drunk all the time and they were headed for a DUI. His dead father's voice spoke in his head from the night of the _Queens' Gambit_ sinking_, "Oliver, you know this isn't going to end well... for either of them." _ Feeling as if his father was a fortuneteller and he was referring to Laurel and Felicity gave Oliver a sudden wave of nausea.

"Oliver?" Thea asked as Queen found himself staring into space after she revealed she didn't know he had already slept with Laurel just before the earthquake.

"Sorry." He blinked," She's … coping, I think. I have not had a chance to talk to her much."

"Well, you might want to. You know you are her only close friend left." Thea volunteered standing up from the couch, "I'm going down to eat. What time is the service?"

"Ten." Queen looked at his sister wrapped in her fleece robe with bunny print on it, "Are you coming?"

"I should." Thea bit her lip thoughtfully," But Mom will be all alone."

"Roy can keep her company." Oliver replied with an edge to his voice. Queen was still processing the betrayal his own mother had perpetrated upon Starling City and most of all his own family.

" Wouldn't they make a pair!" Thea exclaimed throwing her hands out like she was making a grand announcement, "The Thug meets High Society!"

Even Oliver had to smile at that juxtaposition, "I think they would find some common ground."

"Rap sheet to rap sheet?" Thea blurted and then covered her hand with her mouth as if she'd just blasphemed. Oliver stood up at the comment, muscles rippling instinctively.

A dark cloud passed over Oliver's eyes of complicated emotions, "You didn't mean that."

"Oh. Oh… Oliver!" Thea rushed to him and held him tight. Queen held his sister close and felt her body shake with sobs. The light dawned on him that despite her cavalier attitude and casual teen veneer that deep inside she was dealing with losing her mother as well as her father.

Eventually she stopped crying and blotted her eyes on her robe sleeve. Without a word, through red-rimmed eyes, she waved a tiny good bye and left his room closing the door gently behind her. Oliver stood stock still trying to make sense of it all but there was no sense to make for any of this.


	4. Chapter 4

Phoenix ch 4

Diggle drove Thea and Oliver to the funeral, which left Moira and Roy alone together. Moira waved politely at the car as it moved away from the house down the grand circular drive, a pained expression on her face. She loved Tommy like a son and it really did hurt not to be able to leave the premises to attend his service. Roy looked uneasy and shifted nervously on his feet in the doorway. Eventually, she turned and he jumped. " Roy, please. Relax. I don't bite." She was tired of his frenetic energy.

"Uh, yes… Mrs. Queen." He stammered.

"Moira, please. Call me Moira." She said in a tired tone. Last night sleeping in her own bed gave no relief to her exhaustion because the nightmares she envisioned.

"'Ok." Roy paused trying to say her name appropriately, "Moira."

The elder Queen looked at this scrappy young man, clasping her hands in front of her. She saw raw energy that had not been trained and hopefully an intelligence to match. In Roy, a brief vision of what attracted her daughter to him was visible, but Moira hoped against all hope that the vitality in him could be refined and polished. Roy looked very uncomfortable at her wordless assessment of him and tried not to fidget.

"Can I do anything for you, Moira?" he asked hesitantly, his eyes darting all around but at her.

Moira smiled a small smile at his inexperience talking to women like her, "Roy, do you like to play cards?"

Roy's eyes met hers quickly in surprise, "Yes."

"How about poker?" Moira asked, her eyebrows rising.

"Yes, ma'am." Roy returned looking slightly intrigued.

Resting a hand on Roy's shoulder, she guided him to the parlor, "Thea's father taught me how to play and it has been so long. How about you indulge an old woman in a game. I'm going to be here for a long time and I can only read so many books."

"I can do that." He returned and smiled the first real smile Moira had seen yet, instead of a terrified grimace. A sparkle was in his eye and it warmed her heart that her daughter had found someone perhaps worthy of her.

The wait staff brought lunch to them in the parlor as Moira shuffled the deck, looking very card shark-like. Roy sulked slightly because he was down several chips and was glad they were not playing for real money. "Did I tell you the time Thea brought home a puppy?" she distracted him from his losing streak as she dealt another hand.

He warily picked up the cards and eyed them. Then his stomach growled and he forced himself to focus on the game instead of the tray of appetizing food next to him. "No." he said simply knowing she was going to tell him anyway. Roy felt as if he knew the two younger Queens like their own father because of Moira's story telling.

"Well, she found this puppy in the back of the property. Oliver and she had been exploring the woods." Moira began and then nibbled a bit of sandwich as if she didn't care what cards she held in her hand.

Roy leaned over and grabbed his plate too after watching Queen dig in, "And?"

"Thea came in with this whole speech she had contrived about why she should get to keep him and how she was going to love him forever." Moira sipped her sweet tea, "Quite the actress she was." A smile played across her face and lit her eyes. Glancing down at her cards, she threw in two $1000 chips and discarded one card.

Roy considered his hand and raised her bet also discarding a card, "Did she get to keep the puppy?"

Queen ate a forkful of fruit salad, delicately wiping her lips and raising the bet again to $8000, looking at him in the eye, "Unfortunately, the puppy had distemper and we had to put it down. Thea was heartbroken for months." She sat back in her chair and waited for Roy to play.

Roy considered the play for a moment. He didn't have enough to raise her again, and he doubted he had the cards. But a thought dawned on him. His mom always said he read too much, which was one of the nicer things she said to him, but this story had a familiar feeling to it: a parable. Was he the puppy who died and broke Thea's heart? _You're thinking too much, Roy_, he chided himself_, focus on the game_. "I fold." He sighed resignedly and laid out his hand; two pairs and one single card.

"Too bad, Roy." Moira smiled, but not vindictively as she lay down her four Queens and raked in the chips.

_Too bad for who?_ Roy thought pensively as he watched her stack up the chips.


	5. Chapter 5

Phoenix ch 5

From the steel and glass monolith that was Queen Consolidated, the penthouse office could look out onto any direction from the floor to ceiling glass windows. The senior Queen sometimes watched the sun rise when he put in all nighters (sometimes not alone), more often than his wife liked. Now, his son sat behind the helm of the company with his head in his hands as the sun peaked above the horizon, wondering what his next move was.

Walter had tenured his resignation after Tommy's funeral. He said it was nothing personal, but it would be awkward to be the COO of your ex-wife's company. Oliver agreed with mixed blessings because this saved him the task of firing Walter in the very near future. The terrifying part was now he was in charge.

Moira agreed last night via telephone it was best for QC and lightly discussed a few other company topics with him before hanging up. Her tone was neutral and even slightly upbeat, which Oliver knew was a lie. Often, he wondered if it was his time on the Island that made him such a good liar or being related to his mother. After he hung up, he retreated not to Verdant, but his father's office at the top of the company building still damaged from the city riots.

The market value of Queen Consolidated had yet to fully recover, but the Queens were diversified enough that Starling City couldn't breathe without making the Queen's money. Merlyn's company was just the opposite. Malcolm's fortune was being used to amass the reconstruction equipment and materials to fix the mayhem he unleashed.

Oliver stared at the mahogany grain of the desk. He took in the whorls and turns of the warm brown wood as he held his head over its surface. The rubbed finish showed the years his father spent in this room building the business. Exhaustion burned behind his eyes as he wiped his fingers over his face grimacing at the amount of stubble on his cheeks. When was the last time he shaved? When was the last time he did _anything _normal?

Oddly enough, the desk phone rang. Oliver's heart raced as he jolted upright at the sound. Looking strangely at the phone, he picked up the receiver, " Oliver Queen."

" Mr. Queen. Good morning. I am Alice Murphy, personal secretary to the Mayor. Are you available for a meeting today at City Hall?" the pleasant but authoritative voice said.

Oliver blanked for a moment. He hardly knew what day it was, " Uh, sure. What time?"

"I hope nine this morning is not too early." was the brisk reply.

"No. That is not. I'm up already." he commented dryly.

"Thank you." The click was the period on her sentence.

"You're welcome, Ms. Personality." Oliver growled into the handset and set it back down. He looked at his watch: 6:30 am. He wondered briefly why they knew he'd be here and awake. Probably his mother. Maybe Walter. Did it really matter? Here he was, becoming exactly what his parents had wanted him to be; a responsible man.

Standing, he stretched his bones and found them popping and creaking. A few of his scars ached dully as did the healing puncture wound he gave himself to kill Merlyn. Dig was a wizard at lying too, when he needed it. Dragging both of them, night of the quake, to the hospital, he feigned a debris injury. They had met up in an alley in the Glades after Tommy's passing. Queen stifled his crying in front of John, but the war veteran wished the young man would just let it go. Some of the best therapy comes through crying.

Changing out of his Hood costume, numbly they both supported each other to the ER. Oliver noticed that this was the one night that his name didn't get him to the front of the line. The amount of suffering he witnessed gave his soul fresh wounds of injustice and just how far Merlyn went to avenge his wife. It also reminded him how much he had failed. He and John sat on the floor of the ER, leaning on each other back-to-back, dozing in the middle of the night with the rest of Starling City waiting to be seen for their wounds.

Queen had not forgotten about Felicity. She had texted that she was scared, but fine, and she was hunkered down in the basement of Verdant, which for now seemed pretty safe. He was so exhausted; it took him several minutes to wake up when the nurse called his name, tapping him lightly on the shoulder. He opened his eyes just before she called for assistance, thinking he may be dead. "Mr. Queen?" a smile of relief was on the nurse's face. Even for a battle worn woman liker herself, tonight there had been too much death.

"Yes. Yes." was all Oliver could say coming out from his shattered mental state.

"I am the triage nurse. What is your main injury?" her pen hovered over a pad of paper. They had long since run out of patient information forms and the batteries on their iPads had lost their charges hours ago.

"My friend John Diggle is in worse shape. See to him..." Oliver trailed off vacantly still seeing the masses of hurt in the waiting room.

"No. I'm fine. "John argued, looking wan, his brown eyes sunk into his head.

"He has a puncture to the abdomen. A piece of glass… I think." Oliver lied convincingly as the concern shifted from him to John.

John rolled his eyes at Oliver but lied along too tired to argue, "A window."

"Ok. We'll see you first. Orderly!" the nurse called out and two large men appeared to help John up among the injured. The bloodstain on his shirt was impressive. "I'll be back for you." She gave Oliver another fatigued smile for putting his friend first. Queen curled up on the floor, his own wound staining his shirt under his hoodie and went back to the dark abyss of sleep.

When Oliver woke again, the waiting room was less full, but the psychological cloud of suffering still hung like thick smoke. Someone had put a pillow under his head, but the nurse had not come back right away. The sun was making it's first appearance the day after the disaster and Queen couldn't remember what day it was or how long he had been there. The crushing blow of remembering came down on him like a boulder as Tommy's last words repeated themselves in his mind. Squeezing his eyes shut against the light, he almost rolled over to vomit because the memory was so fresh and the agony too much.

"Oliver?" a kind voice he recognized reached his ears. It was Felicity. She knelt down next to him, a worried expression on her face.

He felt the sudden urge to hold her and never let her go because his heart hurt so much, "Are you ok?" Queen noticed as he tried sitting up the plaster dust in her hair and speckling her clothes. It made her look like a baker who had an accident measuring flour.

"I'm fine. I got scared you hadn't called me since last night, so I came here to see if you were all right. But obviously you're not. I mean, I know how sharp those things are… I pricked myself once. You probably didn't want to know I touched your stuff. You haven't been seen yet?" she began to babble she saw pain flash across his face and how pallid he was.

"I let John go first." Oliver replied feeling more aged than ever before but a microscopic real smile pulled at his lips because she was here and prattling at him. Felicity gave him a cross look.

"Nurse! This man is bleeding!" Felicity called out although she couldn't see the arrow stab wound under his hoodie. She knew that would get someone's attention.

A nurse moved quickly to them. Oliver noticed it was not the same one that John had gone with, "Where?" Her voice was incredulous because there was no visible stain on his exterior.

"Here." Oliver replied softly as he propped himself against the wall, unzipping his hoodie. Right above where his heart was, appeared a soccer ball sized stain. Felicity's eyes popped out of her head. She had no idea the severity of what had happened to him last night.

"You've been here all night?" the nurse wondered aloud taking his pulse quickly, "Never mind. Orderly!"

Felicity looked only slightly more relieved as the medical staff swung into action, "I'll check on John." She commented as Oliver was lifted into a wheel chair and whisked away. Oliver looked over his shoulder and wished he had a few more moments with her, injured or not, but submitted to the care of Starling City's real heroes.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Sorry for the long delay. The itch to write comes but the writing does not… thanks for the patience. 8belles**

Phoenix ch 6

Shaking himself from his reverie of the earthquake, Oliver shambled over to the full en suite bathroom of the office. Looking at his scruffiness in the mirror, visions of the Island swam before him. _Not again_, he said to himself running his hand across his chin_, I'm going to shave_.

Stripping, he piled his clothes on the floor not feeling guilty today about the housekeeping picking them up. The hot water ran and he quickly located a razor and foam. Once satisfied his face was in order, he took an equally long and hot shower. _I wonder what the Mayor wants_, he puzzled as he shampooed and rinsed, _I don't picture myself as the poster child of reconstruction_. Perhaps this was a chance for him to make Starling City right by **not** putting arrows through people. At that bone weary moment, Oliver welcomed that thought very much.

Drying off, he found some of his dad's suits in the closet. Pausing almost reverentially, he wondered why these were still here instead of at Goodwill. _I guess that Walter was a sensible man, who went home to his wife, who had him kidnapped and interrogated_, Queen's voice bitterly inserted into his mind. _Oh wait, she did that to me too,_ Oliver felt his blood pressure rising and his vision hazing red.

Yao Fai's accented voice called out from the shadows of his memory, " Breathe. Everything breathe."

Forcing those words forward, he closed his eyes, inhaled and exhaled ten times.

Opening his eyes, he studied his father's suits, selected one and a crisp white shirt. His dad was not quite as muscular as he was, but the suit fit for now; he didn't feel like going home right then. Putting the finishing touch on his tie knot, he turned to leave the bathroom suddenly smelling coffee.

"Good morning." John said, leaning on the mahogany desk, arms crossed over his broad chest. A bag of doughnuts and two large cups of coffee sat nearby, the steam curling appealing above the cups.

"Who did you bribe to get up here?" Oliver asked stepping forward.

"Membership has its privileges." John smiled and handed him a cup.

Queen took it and inhaled the aroma while closing his eyes, "Thanks. How are you doing?"

"Better than you, apparently." John stated in an unvarnished way.

"I look that bad?" Oliver grabbed a glazed doughnut from the bag and bit into it. It was still warm and slightly gooey.

"I think I've seen camel spiders in Afghanistan cuter than you." Diggle replied with a chuckle and a sip of coffee, "You spend the night up here?"

"Pretty much." Oliver answered devouring another doughnut. He didn't realize how hungry he was, or how good these things tasted.

"Not an island now, but an ivory tower? You gonna start growing out your hair?" Digg poked.

Oliver cut him a dirty look and changed the subject, "Mayor's office called me this morning."

John's eyebrows rose slightly, "What did they want?"

"A meeting. Nine o'clock." Queen replied gulping coffee.

"I wonder if it's going to be a 'charitable' meeting where they hold your feet over the coals for some cash." John pondered.

"I doubt it. They have all of Mal-", Oliver paused, his jaws frozen on Malcolm's name. He quickly substituted "_His _money."

Dig noticed and carefully stated, "True. Maybe they need your charisma."

"Well apparently you could use a dose of it too." Oliver shot back and then wandered over to the huge windows where the sun was fully engaged with the sky now.

"She worries about you." John said carefully.

"My mother?" the scorn was scalding in his voice.

"Felicity." Dig returned.

"I know." Oliver said quietly, his back to John. A tightness formed in his chest.

"You gonna do something about that too?" John asked, daring to push a bit more than he had in the past.

"Is it any of your business?" there was an edge to Oliver's voice.

"Well, as I see it you have two ladies who aren't exactly sure where they stand with you. I think it is distracting to you and rude to them, since you're asking." John returned evenly.

Oliver inhaled deeply, "I think you started the asking, if I recall." Queen still didn't turn around to face Dig.

"Those are questions worth some answers. I'll be down stairs with the car. You're welcome for breakfast." John finished and left for the elevator, leaving Oliver alone staring at his reflection in the glass overlooking Starling City.


	7. Chapter 7

Phoenix ch 7

The Mayors office was in the older part of the city where most of the roads were still closed because of debris created by the earthquake. Oliver sat looking out the back window at the crumbled and burnt buildings, piles of rubble and the presence of yellow construction equipment. People huddled around the doorways to Red Cross Centers, their clothes dusty and torn.

Traditional governmental architecture greeted them as John pulled up to the stately, yet damaged, Greek Revival seat of government. Ropes of ivy clung to the white marble façade giving the building a more aged look of an Ivy League university. Satellite buildings for various government functions occupied spaces around the nearly block long City Hall. Signs directed citizenry to those for things like licenses, permits and zoning meetings.

Diggle opened the back door and Oliver exited the car. He buttoned his suit coat and jogged up the two wide staircases to the front doors while Dig parked the car. Pushing open the heavy brass framed door, stale air and the smell of bureaucracy assaulted his nose. Apparently the HVAC was still down judging by the lack of airflow and the fewer lights that lit the interior. Oliver had read in the paper that the power was out still to thousands from the disaster. Seems the Mayor was suffering too with his citizens.

The terrazzo floor was covered in a thin patina of dust and the stately columns of the foyer looked a bit off kilter to him as he approached the security checkpoint. Government employees buzzed around the place behind the checkpoint like a hive of bees. Oliver showed the security officer his ID and walked through the metal detector with no difficulty.

Approaching a receptionist at a circular desk, he cleared his throat. The middle-aged woman looked up, her headset anchored to her ear and her eyes widened in surprise, " Mr. QUEEN!" Seems he was the most recognizable man in Starling City.

Oliver smiled neutrally at her, "Yes. I'm here for an appointment with the Mayor."

"Yes sir! I'll call up stairs right away. Do you need an escort?" she asked cheerfully, punching buttons on her phone.

"No. I can find my way. Thank you." He replied with a curt nod and moved to the stairs. Two curved dual staircases rose from behind her desk, one going right the other going left, both made of polished marble with brass handrails. Queen took the one on the right.

As he ascended to the first landing, he heard children's voices. A gaggle of school aged kids were coming down the stairs, their backpacks bouncing lightly on their shoulders and their voices an excited pitch which rang off the plaster walls and stone floor like bells. They jabbered on about the Mayor and how they were going to be Mayor when they grew up and have things like declaring every day Ice Cream Day or never going to school again.

Oliver watched them pass with a genuine smile and his guard down. They brought memories of himself as a boy and Thea when their schools would take them here. Oliver also occasionally went with his dad, when he was younger, to visit the Mayor. He remembered those times with a fond, warm feeling. A harried teacher scurried after the kids calling after his charges to wait up. He nodded an encouraging expression to the man, who seemed to pay him no attention but was focused on the kids.

Putting the mask back down and walls up, Oliver proceeded up the stairs, turning left on the hallway. There were many wide corridors off the main hall, each with an arch and some signage telling people which way was what department. As his footfalls tapped on the terrazzo, he heard a soft crying coming from one of the passageways. Oliver noticed there were fewer workers up here, and the hallway looked deserted. Using his excellent hearing, he investigated, not sure what he'd find.

Two red and silver Nike running shoes peeked out from a recess in the wall. Those shoes were attached to two legs that were pulled up to the chest of a young girl, arms wrapped around her bony knees and head buried in her arms. She was quietly crying while her long black, wavy hair obscured her face. Her backpack was carelessly flung on the floor beside her.

Oliver stood there a moment, almost in front of her. He looked left and right but saw no distraught parent or that teacher looking for her. He didn't have a lot of experience with kids, at least in the last five years and so was feeling a bit awkward. Queen chose to clear his throat a bit to get her attention.

The girl's head popped up and a look of fear was on her face like she was a rabbit and he was a fox. "Whoa, I'm not going to yell at you." Oliver said softly, palms up, "I just wanted to see if you were ok. I heard you crying."

The girl remained speechless, but less terrified looking. Oliver would describe it as forlorn.

"My name is Oliver. You are?" he extended a hand towards the girl.

"Diana. Prince." she said returning the shake; her hand small in his and her cheeks wet with tears, " They have other names for me too."

"Is that so?" Oliver said and decided he could sit on the floor, his own knees folded up in front of him.

"Yeah." Diana replied pulling at her jeans that had small stars stenciled on them.

"So are you supposed to be with that school group that just left?" Oliver asked.

"Yeah." She answered again, tears threatening in her bright blue eyes.

"Oh. Well. I guess your classmates were mean or something?" he suggested.

"Yeah, same stuff, every day. Prince-ey Prince or DIE-anna. I don't want to talk about it." Her cheeks colored for a moment and then went silent.

"What do **you **want to talk about?" Olive countered resting his arms on his knees as well.

Diana regarded him strangely for a moment. Oliver got the impression that no adult had asked her what she wanted to talk about maybe ever. "Well, I'd like to learn about laws." She began softly.

Oliver nodded and continued to listen. "I think I'd like to be a lawyer someday. And I want to help people who don't have anyone to help them. Especially when they are in trouble." Her tone perked up. Oliver could see the budding passion this young lady had for being a defense lawyer and he smiled and listened. It reminded him of Laurel and that caused a twist of pain in his heart.

Diana went on for a few more moments in the idealistic and concrete way kids think about the world. At that moment, Oliver realized that this was the state of mind the city must become; the optimism of a child. A light went on in his head.

"Diana!" a male voice called out down the hall. Diana turned her head quickly towards the sound, slightly frightened looking again. Oliver frowned at her discomfort, also looking up the hall toward the voice. The teacher stood at the head of the hall, "Oh Diana! You almost scared me to death! C'mon the bus is waiting for you."

Oliver stood in a fluid motion and the teacher took notice, "I'm Oliver Queen. You are?"

The man swallowed involuntarily. It was plain to see that Oliver was in a protective mood. "Mr. Tucker. I'm the third grade teacher at Starling City Elementary." He approached the pair, "Thank you for keeping an eye on her. She sometimes does this… wanders away."

"We were discussing the future of Starling City." Oliver mentioned as Diana got up from her seat and picking up her backpack, " And what a wonderful lawyer she will be someday."

Mr. Tucker regarded Queen for a moment a bit struck that this billionaire playboy would take such interest in a child, "Yes, she is quite smart." Diana smiled sheepishly at the floor.

"But Mr. Tucker, I would also make sure your school revisits its anti-bullying policies." Oliver suggested strongly.

"Yes, I think we will. Thank you again." Tucker agreed and he waved for Diana to move along. The pair disappeared down the hall and staircase. Diana turned at the last second and waved good-bye. He returned the wave. Oliver felt that was not the last time he'd be seeing that girl but it was a good feeling of optimism and rebirth.


	8. Chapter 8

Phoenix ch 8

The Mayor's secretary, Alice Murphy, was sitting primly behind her amazingly tidy aluminum desk. As Oliver pushed the frosted glass door with the City Seal open by its steel handles, she regarded him with icy disdain.

He expected an older woman, set in her Miss Manners ways but this woman was amazing looking. She had her golden hair up in a chignon; light green eyes were pained with a perfect smoky look and blazing red lipstick. Her dress was a large floral print with a proper lime green cardigan that was trimmed in a feminine lace. Oliver's brain almost made him say, "Felicity?" but he didn't, instead he tried to regain his composure.

"_Mr. Queen_." The way her voice cut through the air did the trick. An ice cold shower was poured over his brain, " You are twenty minutes late."

" Yes. I was assisting a teacher with a field trip." Queen shot back, his walls and defenses in full engage mode. No more day dreams about Felicity, but now John's words echoed in his head: _make up your mind, man!_

"I see." She looked him up and down, but not in the typical way he was used to. Oliver felt like his soul had been scoured, " I'll let him know you are here." A few magical punches of a telephone keypad and a lightening quick conversation was all it took. "Please, through those doors." She gestured with her eyes, her body never moving more than a scant inch in any direction as if she was frozen in her perfection and control.

He didn't even thank her as he moved away from the Puritanical secretary wondering what other surprises awaited him. The next door was wood and opened easily into a large rectangular office with dark blue carpet speckled with a golden birds eye pattern. Behind the main desk sat the Mayor and two leather couches on either side, where some guests were also sitting. The morning sun streamed in from the palladian window behind the Mayor and past he heavy maroon curtains that were pushed away to each side on their heavy brass rings. Now Oliver knew where all those campaign donations went to as he inspected the room.

"Mr. Queen! I hear you were waylaid by some pint sized citizenry." The Mayor rose from his desk and presented a hand.

Oliver shook it firmly and replied, "Yes. I guess they had a lost sheep to return to the fold."

" Splendid." the Mayor appeared to take no notice of why he was kept waiting but moved right on, "I'd like you to meet someone who is going to help this city reclaim what was… lost." His tone took on a mournful sound referring to the city's damage.

Queen looked at the assembled pair. A woman and a man sat in their grey business suits, looking no different than any other professionals would. A large shrouded object stood next to them, which aroused Oliver's curiosity.

" This is Ms. Elizabeth Luthor and her business partner, Steve Pattenson." The Mayor said congenially in that perpetual politician tone.

Queen's radar perked up: Luthor? "Pleased to meet you." He extended a hand to each, " Luthor? That is a well known family name."

Elizabeth smiled a polite smile like she was used to explaining, "If I had a dollar for each time I heard that, I would not be here!" she chuckled lightly and Oliver cocked his head, "Lex was my great great uncle. Nasthalia was my grandmother. I like the last name."

" I am sure it gets you attention." Oliver countered as he considered the woman. Her black hair was cut in a blunt bob and her brown eyes revealed a great intellect. She smiled slightly, almost coyly.

"Sometimes unwarranted attention." Steve said strongly and moved ever so slightly closer to Elizabeth. His face was chiseled into a warning at Queen. Oliver absorbed his nonverbal communication easily but held his ground, his jaw muscles flexing involuntarily.

The Mayor stepped in, "So, Elizabeth was here to show us her new idea for rebuilding Starling City." He gestured to the cloth-covered object in the middle of the room, "I invited you, Mr. Queen to see what we were considering, being that your father did _so much_ for Starling City and you are now the head of Queen Consolidated. Would you care to take a seat?"

Oliver obliged by sitting in the opposite couch from where Elizabeth and Steve had been just moments before. " Mr. Mayor, Mr. Queen, what we have to show you here today is something amazing." Elizabeth launched into her sales pitch. Steve stepped back to give her room to show off.

"When we heard what had happened to Starling City, we were horrified in Gotham." her tone was appropriately sad, "But then I realized that what my company manufactures is exactly what you need." The Mayor was on the edge of his seat like a boy about to be given a treat from Santa. She looked at the Mayor directly, "How many people would it take to rebuild all the structures that were destroyed in the earthquake, Mr. Mayor?"

The Mayor looked dazed; he didn't have his aides with the prepared numbers, "Uh, I … I have no idea, actually." His cheeks colored slightly in embarrassment. Oliver tried not to roll his eyes.

" Our current projections are at a minimum, 50,000 workers. And a time frame of over ten years." Steve interjected seriously like a well-oiled tag team. The Mayors face lost all expression as if his head would explode.

" Where could you hire and house 50,000 construction workers, their equipment and all the building material to get Starling City back on its feet quickly?" Elizabeth pounded the Mayor but didn't give him time to answer, let alone think, "Malcolm Merlyn did great damage to this city, and his money will help, but it can't cover _everything_ that needs to be done." She paced from side to side like a tiger and Oliver was almost getting bored of this circus. He tried to not yawn.

"Mr. Mayor, I have the answer right here." Elizabeth patted the disguised mass in the room," And it will save Starling City." Pulling the cloth lightly, it slipped from the object like a river of silk.

Oliver sat up a bit straighter at the reveal. A man-sized robot stood in the room, half _Terminator_ half exosuit from _Alien_, the dark grey panels absorbed light is seemed rather than reflect it. It was an ominous machine and a shiver ran along Oliver's spine.

Elizabeth beamed at the Mayor, genuinely proud of her work. Steve had a more cautious smile, looking at Oliver. Queen said nothing but tore his eyes from the robot to look at the Mayor.

The man was utterly stunned and it looked as if drool could fall from his mouth, it hung open so wide. " Sweet Lord Almighty." He breathed finally at the thing hulking in his office, "What can that thing _do_?"

"I am glad you asked." Steve stepped up to the plate, "This is our Terrex 1 model. It is fully humanoid, but possesses the strength of 100 men. The arms can be interchanged with construction equipment, such as jack hammers, scoops and even mix concrete."

"Like an overgrown Cuisinart." Oliver interjected coolly. Steve threw him a discretely nasty look. The Mayor took no notice transfixed as he was on the machine.

Steve continued, "It can be programmed for a variety of tasks, can trouble shoot and think on its feet and it can work all day and night with no breaks. One foreman can oversee a small army of these droids and set them to work."

Oliver felt that shiver again with the word _army_.

"Besides build, what other functions does this thing have?" Oliver queried, throwing an arm casually over the back of the couch.

Steve looked perplexed for a moment but Elizabeth spoke up, "They can do virtually anything."

"Like _Iron Man_, hmm?" Oliver kept playing the sarcastic billionaire while discretely activating a cufflink camera on his outstretched arm. Now everything he was seeing, Felicity and Dig could see.

"Well not the same, since it's not an exoskeleton." Elizabeth countered honestly.

"Elizabeth, I think Mr. Queen isn't taking us seriously." Steven said with icy overtones. The Mayor was standing up next to the robot and poking at it. No one seemed to notice he was even there.

"No, I'm very serious." Oliver returned, "And I want to know what you two plan to do **to **our city."

"You mean for?" Elizabeth countered, folding her hands in front of her.

"No." Oliver said tersely, "There is a lot of money here for the taking. How can we be sure your intentions are… in the best interest of the city?"

Steve and Elizabeth exchanged looks and were about to react when the Mayor spoke up loudly, "YES! We'll take your help. All of it. Every last one of these… magnificent machines! Amazing… simply amazing."

Steve and Elizabeth looked at the Mayor, who was happily exploring the robot, then at Oliver.

Oliver frowned at their cat-ate-the-canary looks. " Certainly, Mr. Mayor. As you wish!" Elizabeth said brightly, a stark contrast to her devilish expression.

"That is what we are going to _do_ for your city, Mr. Queen." Steve growled at Oliver then turned to pat the Mayor good-naturedly on the back and talk shop.

Oliver's stomach turned. He wasn't afraid but he knew the Hood was not hanging it up any time soon. He had his work cut out here in front of him.

**A/N- so that is a bit of what I think the season 2 could be… but it could be anything. Just thought I'd have some fun with it and fill the void for a while. Thanks for the readership. 8belles.**


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